Out of The Darkness
by QuietKurtsie
Summary: One year. That's how long it's been since Kurt left his life behind with nothing but a letter for his family. His brother Finn decides enough is enough and makes it his mission to find him. He eventually discovers Kurt, broken and defeated with a secret which horrifies his brother. Will Kurt forget his pride and admit that he really needs help? Brotherly Furt, Klaine and Finchel.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: So this is my re-write of A Second Chance. Same begining, slightly different storyline in future chapters. This one will be a lot less sad then what I was planning. **

**No warnings so far. I'll put them at the begining of each chapter. **

**Don't own Glee :D**

Prologue

Kurt looked around at his trashed bedroom, taking in the magnitude of destruction surrounding him. His normally immaculate room was unrecognisable, buried under mountains of carelessly thrown belongings- clothing, books and broken shards of glass. Yet he sat on his bed, which was missing its sheets, not moving to clear any of it away. There were deep groves sliced into his bare arms and his flushed cheeks, which were bleeding furiously and causing scarlet blood to drip lazily onto the red tartan trousers he wore. But he was long past caring.

Slowly, he heaved himself off the bed, and made his way over to his closet, careful to avoid treading on what was left of his mirror, which had disintegrated and flung itself around the room. There were even a few pieces embedded in his hair, which he gingerly plucked out and dropped into the bin. Reaching the closet, he opened the doors and brought out an old rucksack. It was ancient; un-used since he was 12, and had gone camping with his dad for a long weekend. It was the first and last time they have ever gone, Kurt had hated being without his beloved hair products and music, so Burt never mentioned a second trip. He allowed himself to smile at the fond memories. After all, it wasn't likely there was going to be any more.

Suddenly, he was hurrying, throwing anything he could into his bag at an astonishing speed. He barely even paid attention to what he was packing; he just knew he had to be quick. Finn would be coming back from school pretty soon, and his dad had an early day at the garage. He wanted to be gone long before they arrived.

He hoisted the bag onto his aching back and slipped into a grungy pair of running shoes. The old Kurt would have never been seen dead in public in such hideous attire, but he wasn't the same now. He was different. Everything was different.

Grabbing a notebook from his vanity, and a pen, he flipped it open. On one of the pages, a mobile number had been scribbled down. Blaine's number. Kurt remembered back to when he met the boy earlier that week. How charming and sweet he had been, encouraging Kurt to stand up for himself against his tormentor. Look where that's got me now, he thought bitterly. He had contemplated blaming Blaine for what happened, but he couldn't bring himself to. It was no one's fault but Karofsky's.

He shuddered at the mere thought of that name. It was clear to him the minute he stumbled out of that school, his hands clasped protectively round his own waist that he couldn't return. Ever.

His hands began to move, and he wrote a quick note to his family. There was too far much to tell them, too much which he had to explain. So he settled for saying nothing at all.

_Dad, Carole and Finn,_

_I'm sorry, I'm not strong enough anymore. Love you all with all my heart._

_Kurt xxx_

He set the notebook open in the middle of his dishevelled bed, and backed painstakingly slowly out of the room, not even bothering to hold back the flood of tears as he retreated and slammed the door shut, leaving devastation in his wake.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_1 year, 2 weeks and 1 day later_

_24__th__ November 2011_

Finn wandered miserably into the choir room, by himself. He was barely watching where he was going, just trudging forward till he found his regular seat at the front with his girlfriend, Rachel. Luckily for him, he was the first there, giving him time to think and reflect on the past year.

He could still remember that terrible moment clear as day, though he wished he couldn't. It'd be so much easier if he could banish that memory to the back of his mind, but he couldn't. Especially not today.

Puck has invited him round to play Halo, so he didn't arrive home until late that evening. He walked into the house to find his Mom and Burt seated on the couch, staring at the blank TV screen in front of them in total silence while their hands clasped desperately together. He remembered being confused and truly scared, begging for one of them to tell him what had happening .That was when his mom gently tugged him to one side and told him they couldn't find Kurt, and some of his belongings were gone. That was the moment. The beginning of their nightmare.

He could still remember going into Glee the next day, having to explain to them in a trembling voice how Kurt had run away from home, watching their expressions morph into those of horror and shock. The scene was devastating. He remembers Mr Shue clapping him gently on the back, his face deathly white, and excusing them all from practise that day. A day turned into a week, as none of them could bear to look at Kurt's vacant space in the room.

They said that things would get better over time, but they didn't, the pain was always there and it was incredibly strong. There was the first poster to be pinned onto a lamppost, the picture of Kurt beaming back at him through a fuzz of black and white. There were the first interviews with the police, the first comments of condolences from students and teachers at school. He knew they were only trying to be supportive. But it really wasn't helping.

It was like he'd disappeared of the face of the earth. After a few months, people stopped mentioning him, thinking about him. They stopped reading his name out on the registers. His locker was cleared out and given to another student; the contents handed over to Burt in a plastic Walmart bag. Class seating plans were changed and rearranged, Kurt's name left out of them completely. They had needed another member for Glee to qualify for Sectionals that year, so Puck got the Zizes girl to join. Her first practise came, and she plonked herself down in Kurt's normal chair. No one said a word. Finn still remembers the time he had walked to school and noticed one of the missing posters had been torn roughly from its lamppost, and chucked carelessly onto the soaked pavement. He had bent down to pick it up, only to have the drenched paper fall to pieces in his hands. It took all his strength not to drop to the ground and cry.

Finn let out a groan, and buried his head into his hands. He really didn't want to be thinking about Kurt right now, but he couldn't help himself. There was so much left unanswered! Was Kurt safe and well? Where was he living? Does he live on the street? Does he have any friends? Would he recognise his younger brother now if he saw him? Is he even alive-?

"Finn?"

He looked up to see a short boy with dark gelled back hair staring down at him. It was that new transfer kid, Blaine, from Dalton Academy. He seemed nice enough, a little enthusiastic when it comes to dancing and furniture hopping, but a good addition to New Directions, even though he used to be the lead soloist of their competition. He was gay as well, which of course everyone was totally cool with, but Finn couldn't help but wonder how he and Kurt would get along. You never know, they could have been dating by now if Kurt was still there.

"Hey dude." Finn mumbled, gesturing the seat next to him. Blaine sat down, looking like he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure how to. So he left it. After a while, the rest of the team filed in, laughing and joking with each other, in groups or pairs. Even Mr Shue, when he walked in, had a large grin on his face and was in a seemingly good mood. He couldn't help but glare at them, full of fierce resentment. Had they really forgotten? Sure, he expected it of the pupils of this school; they were exactly welcoming to Kurt. But these were his best friends!

Rachel finally arrived, giving Finn a chaste kiss on the cheek and sat on his other side. But he barely responded to her. He just couldn't help it, he was livid.

"So guys!" Mr Shue called, causing the choir room to fall silent. "I've had a few new ideas about what we can use for Sectionals. Here's a song I was thinking of doing." He handed around copies of sheet music, which Finn flicked his eye over. Come What May from Moulin Rouge. Finn bit his lip, cursing himself for being so easily upset. Kurt loved Moulin rouge. He used to sing it, at an insanely loud volume, when he was cooking or cleaning or sometimes just to annoy Finn. At the time, Finn would yell at him to be quiet. Now he would do anything to hear Kurt's countertenor vocals again.

"Finn and Rachel, come and take us through it." Mr Shue beckoned them up to the front, despite the groans of protest from the others, before settling down to watch.

While Rachel happily leapt up to take her place, Finn stared at the man in total disbelief. "Sorry I'm not really feeling up to it today Mr Shue." He muttered, looking down at the ground so no one could spot he was on the verge of tears.

"What!" Rachel blazed at him, "you're the lead, Finn! You can't just 'not be up to it!' You and I are the linchpins holding this group together, which means we have a responsibility towards the team. So we have to perform whenever we sad or sick or-"

"Rachel, for god's sake, SHUT UP!" He screamed, dropping his head into his hands once again. After a minute, he felt a strong hand gripping his shoulder. Looking up, he noticed Mr Shue sitting in Rachel's abandoned seat, watching him with a worried expression.

"Are you okay, buddy?" He asked. Finn simply shook his head. "Do you want to tell us about it?"

Finn sighed unhappily. "Things are just a little tense at home, that's all." The teacher visibly stiffened at the mention of his family.

"How?" he asked delicately. Finn could tell the man hoped it was nothing to do with Kurt. But of course it always was.

"It's Kurt's birthday this Saturday." The whole room fell silent, trapped in thoughts of the past.

"But that means nearly a year s-since…" Mercedes trailed off. Discreetly, she lifted a hand towards her mouth and tried to muffle the sob which escaped it. She really didn't want to cry anymore, but it was so hard to move on from the distress of losing her best friend. Hiding didn't work though, as Santana reached over and put her arm around the dismayed girl. Finn bit back from telling her that it had actually been well over a year, and they'd barely even noticed.

Blaine looked around the sea of troubled faces, acting confused. "W-what's wrong, who's Kurt?" he asked gingerly. None of them wanted to answer him, so he turned to their teacher, who exhaled and ran a hand through his curls.

"Well, about a year ago, we had another member, Kurt Hummel. We're not exactly sure what happened. He was bullied by some of the football players here and it was getting worse, but no one realised how bad it was. One day, h-he skipped school at lunchtime, he just walked out the gates, not taking his bag or any of his things, telling no one where he was going. He just vanished into thin air. No one's seen him since."

As Mr Shue spoke, a couple of the other students had started to tear up. Blaine noticed Tina, Rachel and Mercedes were crying the most. They must have been the closest to him, he thought.

"Excuse me." Finn stood out his seat, struggling to keep a straight face. He couldn't keep it up for much longer, and breaking down in front of his friends was not an option. So he practically ran out of the room.

"So no one knows anything about where he is?" Blaine pushed for an answer.

"No, not any more. Apparently there were a few sightings in Westerville a couple of months after he disappeared but none after that. Wherever he is- he doesn't want to be found."

Blaine nodded along silently with a sympathetic face, trying to look like he cared a moderate amount. The amount a stranger probably should. But inside his heart felt as though it were breaking.

* * *

Finn sat inside his- Kurt's- navigator, wiping away the last of his shed tears. He always came in his car when he missed his brother. After Kurt left, Burt had given him the car as a gift, claiming that they might as well put it to good use. It wasn't his type of car, a bit too grand and flashy, but it reminded him of Kurt, the way that he would scream at Finn if he dare rest his feet of the dashboard or tried to change the music station away from his Wicked CD. It still smelled like him as well, the sweet scent of vanilla mixed with hairspray and expensive cologne. Finn made it his priority to keep the car spotless for when Kurt returned.

Eventually, he opened the doors and hoped out of the car, making his way towards the house.

"Mom? Burt?" He called as he walked through the front door, slamming it behind him.

"In the kitchen, honey." He heard his Mom reply. Not wanting to explain his bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks, he walked straight past the kitchen and up the stairs to his room. Just as he was about to push open his door, he heard a supressed sound. It was talking, mixed with the odd gasping sob. It wasn't difficult to hear what they were saying. 'Kurt'.

It wasn't the first time he had heard Burt crying. For the first few weeks it was all he ever did. But it still made Finn uncomfortable, to hear a grown man cry for his lost son. He went to open his door again, but this time something caught his eye instead.

Kurt's door was slightly ajar. Finn stared at it, bewildered. No one ever went in Kurt's room; they hadn't even tidied it from when he was last there. So why was it open? In a moment of sheer curiosity, Finn eased the door open and stepped inside.

It seemed exactly the same as when he was last seen it, months and months ago. The debris was all still in the same place, coated with a thin layer of dust. But now there were a few cards placed neatly on the mattress. Birthday cards, probably sent by relatives who didn't know Kurt had gone. No wonder Burt was upset, he thought.

Making his way over to Kurt's vanity, Finn lowered himself down onto the tiny stool. All of his brother's strange creams and hair products were scattered recklessly over the surface. Grabbing the first one he found, he flipped open the lid and brought it to his nose, inhaling the sweet scent. Just that simple smell brought back memories; it was amazing and heart-breaking all at the same time. He couldn't help himself reaching for another. As he reached for a bottle of hairspray, a flash of metal caught his eye. It was Kurt's phone, buried under the piles of cosmetics.

Finn pulled it out, careful not to scratch its delicate screen. In a spontaneous moment, he clicked the ON button, and the screen burst into life. It was nosy, Finn knew that, but all he wanted was to feel closer to Kurt. There was no harm in that was there?

The phone was clogged up with hundreds of texts and voicemails from various people, all begging for him to call them or to come home. He scrolled through the messages as the names flew in front of his eyes, Burt, Mercedes, Rachel, Puck, Artie, and Blaine. Wait, he did a double take, Blaine?

He stared at the screen for a few minutes, before typing in Blaine's name into the search bar. Hundreds of texts appeared, mostly unopened. Choosing one at random, he selected it and read it silently.

_From: Blaine. A_

_To: Kurt. H_

_Kurt, please I'm getting really scared now. Please just call me or your dad or your friends, just don't do anything stupid!_

"But…but..." he stuttered. Why was Blaine texting Kurt? They've never even met before. Was it even the same person? Finn sat there for a few moments, thinking and thinking about what to do. Eventually, he pressed a few buttons and scrolled through Kurt's pictures, until he found one he was looking for. It was a posed shot, of a boy in a private school uniform smiling into the camera. His hair maybe was a little bit longer, and he was a bit shorter than how he knew him, but Finn knew exactly who it was.

* * *

Finn could barely contain his rage as he flew into Glee the next day. Ignoring the bemused looks of his friends and Spanish teacher, he grabbed the neck of Blaine's t shirt and hoisted him up so they were practically eye to eye. This was pretty difficult considering Blaine's lack of height.

"You're a liar!" Finn spat venomously, shrugging of all attempts to from the others to calm him down. Blaine stared back at his attacker, his eyes wide with fear.

"Finn I don't know what you're talking about!" he cried. Gathering all his strength, he shoved the boy fall force in the chest, causing Finn to stagger backwards. But he didn't stop his attack.

"Why didn't you tell us you knew Kurt?" Blaine's mouth dropped open in horror, as did many others in the room.

"How do you-?" he stammered, bewildered. Finn held up Kurt's phone.

"How could you lie to us, dude?" Finn asked his voice much calmer now. All eyes were now on the newest member, who looked dangerously pale.

Eventually he sighed dejectedly, slumping back down in his seat. "Because it's easier that way." He whispered gently.

Finn glared at him, his anger bubbling to the surface once again. "Easier! What the fuck are you talking about, Anderson?"

"Because then I don't have to think about it! I don't have to think about what I've done." He yelled, stopping Finn in his tracks.

"W-why?" Finn asked, a little kinder, "What did you do?"

After a while Blaine looked up and stared him straight in the eyes. To his surprise, those amber eyes were filled with tears. "It's my fault, Finn. It's my fault he's gone." Thirteen faces stared back at him in shock, so Blaine turned his gaze back to the floor, and continued to explain.

"Something happened that day between him and Karofsky, I don't know what it was exactly, but afterwards Kurt left me a voice mail asking me to call him. By the time I did, he'd already gone."

"D-do you still have the voice mail?" Blaine nodded reluctantly. With trembling hands, he pulled his iPhone out of his pocket and hit a few buttons. Immediately, a hauntingly familiar voice began to speak.

_"Blaine? Blaine it's me, Kurt. L-l-listen, I took your advice but… K-karofsky, he didn't listen, he just... Thank you Blaine, and I-I'm sorry._

"What the hell dude, you could have shown this to the police!" Puck cried at him.

"I did!" Blaine said indignantly. "But there wasn't enough evidence to charge him, especially without Kurt."

None of them knew the right thing to say. "He said you gave him advice." Rachel added. "What did you say to him?" The former warbler sighed guilty.

"K-Kurt asked me for help about the bullying, and I gave him some really awful advice. I told him to confront Karofsky. But it was a stupid idea! Whatever happened to Kurt, it was all my fault. Now I'll never get the chance to apologise." Blaine sniffed, accepting a tissue from Quinn to dry his tears.

"He could come back." Brittney offered, trying to lighten the heavy mood of the choir room. But Blaine shook his head sadly.

"It's been over a year Britney. We need to accept the truth. He's never coming back.

* * *

_He didn't like this. He was close, far too close to them for his liking. But he didn't have any choice, he had to run forward._


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: A note to my readers of A Second Chance, this is the chapter when the storyline changes!**

Chapter Three

_1 week later_

_1__st__ December 2011_

_Kurt didn't like this. He was close, far too close to them for his liking. But he didn't have any choice, he had to run forward._

His feet pounded at the familiar pavement as he ran through the crowds, who turned to watch him in morbid curiosity. The grey sweatpants he wore were clinging to his legs and his limp fringe was flapping into his eyes. Irritated, he tugged it back and picked up the pace. He sprinted around one corner, then another and another. But the footsteps behind him didn't stop. They didn't even falter. Kurt was no longer bothered with how suspicious they looked; he just had to get away from Cole.

Spotting a discrete alleyway, he slipped inside, battling his lungs for breath. It wouldn't be long before he was discovered, so he needed to be quick. Reaching into his rucksack, he brought out a tatty plastic bottle and took a gulp, shuddering as the foul liquid slapped the back of his throat. Oh how he wished it was water!

A few seconds later, a pair of feet appeared at the entrance of the alley. Kurt's breath quickened. Silently, he slammed his back into the wall and held his breath, pleading that fate would be on his side for once in his sorry life. Of course it wasn't.

A shaven head peered round the corner, sneering triumphantly at the sight of the teenage boy. Kurt groaned inwardly, retreating backwards at the man gained on him.

"Come on Kay, don't be a bitch. We had a deal." He said, almost sweetly. He sounded as high as a kite. Suddenly he lunged out at Kurt, attempting to snag his shirt with his calloused hand. But Kurt saw him coming. Swiftly, he brought his knee up sharply into the older man's groin, causing a gasp of pain to emit from his mouth as he stumbled to the ground. Sensing an opportunity, Kurt turned and fled.

He wasn't naïve. He knew that Cole was faster and stronger than him, but Kurt had an advantage. He'd grown up there in Lima; he knew the streets like the back of his hand. Where the best shortcuts were and where they led. Which was useful at that moment in time as he noticed the sounds of staggering steps behind him and the echoes of profanities being screamed at him, which made passers-by wince and pull their children close.

Kurt wiped a pesky drop of sweat from his forehead with a trembling hand, whist still running. He really wasn't prepared for this; Cole wasn't supposed to find him so soon. He hadn't eaten since the other day, but that was the norm for him. It was the craving he wasn't used to, the desperate need for a hit. It was overpowering, banishing all other thoughts to the back of his mind till all he had left was the want. It'd got so bad that Kurt wanted to scream. But he stopped himself, for in front of him stood the building which had haunted his nightmares for the past year.

Everything looked identical to what it had last time he'd seen it, in the whirl of shock and tears. The same buildings, trees and dumpsters all where they stood before. All those feelings which he'd hidden under a blurry haze came bubbling to the surface, and he took an instinctive step backwards. But he couldn't go back.

Cole was gaining on him, barley a couple of roads away.

He couldn't go forward. He just couldn't.

But he had no choice.

Taking a deep breath, he ran inside William McKinley high school.

* * *

"Please don't follow me, don't follow me." He chanted to himself as he charged through the grounds, shoving freshmen out of his path and he ran up and down different flights of stairs.

Then he felt it, a fist grabbing at the back of his hair. Kurt let out a small scream as Cole shoved him into the wall and slammed his fist into his eye and another into his abdomen. The pain was excoriating, but before he could collapse to the floor in pain, he was hoisted up so he was eye to eye with his attacker.

"I thought I'd taught you before. You can't run from me, you pathetic little bitch." The man roared his face so close to Kurt's that the latter could feel his breath hot upon his cheek.

"I-I-I'm sorry, I'll g-get the money, I swear. I just n-need t-time." He stuttered. All around him, students were gawping and pointing, all staring with wide eyes. Whether any of them had got help, he did not know.

"But what if I want it now?" he sneered. Kurt stayed silent, at a loss with what to do. The older boy snarled menacingly and slammed his arm against Kurt's neck, making him hiss in pain.

Then he heard a voice. "HEY! Get out of this school right now!" Cole shot Kurt one last filthy looked and made his escape, letting the boy go.

But Kurt couldn't move an inch. He was frozen to the spot where he was dropped. For he knew that voice. He knew it so well.

No, No this couldn't be happening.

* * *

The atmosphere hadn't improved the next week in Glee after Finns outburst. They were still all in a sombre mood, especially after Saturday. As a group they decided to celebrate for Kurt's birthday, Blaine included, so they trooped off to Breadsticks for the evening. It was an extremely tense meal, the only conversation spoken revolving around how much they missed Kurt. In the end they skipped desert and went home early, muttering sad goodbyes to each other as they travelled home with misty eyes.

Finn had decided to forgive Blaine, much to the shorter boy's relief. It was nice for Blaine to not have to lie about knowing Kurt any more. He shared stories about him with their friends; however scarce there were, like his terrible attempt at spying and copying the Dalton school uniform. They all laughed at that, saying "that sounds like our Kurt."

They all sat in silence that next Wednesday, either quietly conversing about number ideas or flicking through song books. No one had sung a solo since last week, not even Rachel. They hadn't done any group numbers either, and were falling behind drastically for sectionals. But someone none of them were really that bothered.

A loud crash brought them out of their day dreams. As a group they leapt up out of their seats in fear and glanced at each other's faces, bewildered.

"What was that?" Finn whispered. Rachel, who stood beside, clutched his hand and replied.

"I don't know, but it sounded right outside."

"Why are we whispering?" Artie hissed loudly.

Then they heard voices, a rasping harsh voice ringing loud and clear through the din.

"_I thought I'd taught you before. You can't run from me, you pathetic little bitch."_

They gasped simultaneously. Even Puck and Lauren, the resident bad asses, looked slightly pale.

"Guys, wait here." Mr Shue ordered, and ran out of the room. As soon as he exited, they all shared a look that said, "as if", and followed their teacher.

There were two guys fighting outside their choir room. One of them was tall and well built, probably in his mid-twenties, with dirt streaked all over his face and clothing. His eyes were bloodshot and what little hair he had on his head was untamed and rugged. He was a mess. The other boy wasn't much better. Dressed in a baggy pair of sweatpants and tight white vest which showed how painfully thin he was, he was obviously a lot younger than the first boy. When they thought about it, the fight was looking pretty one sided. Although they couldn't hear the words, the two boys were still talking rapidly as the taller one swung his arm and held in against the others neck.

"HEY! Get out of this school right now!" Mr Shue yelled, as the students looked on with pride at their teacher. The first boy fled straight away, not even bothering to look back to check if he was being followed. But the younger boy didn't move. He just sat there one the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, staring at the New Directions whilst keeping his head facing the ground. It was a little unnerving.

Mr Shue frowned at the boy. At closer inspection, he could see he was pretty badly hurt, with a large shiner on his eye and a split lip, as well as too many other smaller cuts and bruises. The clothing he wore was filthy and torn, and his hair looked like it hadn't been cut or washed in a while. But it was the eyes that hit Will. They looked so sad and broken. The kid was in a pretty terrible state.

"Shows over guys, back to your classes!" he called to the observing students, studiously ignoring the calls of protest which were fired back at him. Once the hall was empty except for the Glee kids, Will bent down next to the boy, pretending not to notice how the boy shuffled away from him, trembling.

"You need to get to hospital son." He murmured, as the boy moved further away from him in his attempt to stand.

"Why are you bothering with him, Mr Shue? He's obviously a fruit loop!"

"Santana!" Will hissed at the Latina girl, who simply leaned back on the door, examining her nails.

"No Mr Shue she's right. He brought that… psycho into a school. A school with kids!" Sam agreed, along with agreeing nods from the others.

"As soon as your back is turned he'll probably jump all of us and steal the clothes right of our backs." Rachel cried, gesturing wildly with her hands.

To their surprise, the kid scoffed loudly. "As if I'd want your hideous rainbow sweaters, honey."

"How dare you!" She gasped, as the other kids snorted loudly, and Will gave him an amused glance. All apart from Finn, who simply stared at him. It couldn't be, Finn thought to himself, barely daring to allow himself to think like that. But he'd recognise that fierce tone anywhere.

"You need to get that looked at." He pointed at his eye, trying not to let his voice wobble.

"No." The boy shook his head fiercely.

"But it could get infected!"

"Honestly Finn I'm fine." He muttered, then froze when he realised what he'd just said. But it was too late; he could see it in the older boy's eyes. He'd realised.

"W-what?" Finn stuttered, his mouth dropping open as he stared at the boy. Crouching down and reaching out a hand, he held the kids chin and tilted it upwards so he could see his eyes. Upon seeing them, he couldn't help but let out a strangled gasp. There were still the same, piercing and expressive, a shade of glasz. They were the same as he remembered them.

"I have to go." He pleaded desperately, but Finn refused to let go. Summoning all of his remaining strength, Kurt shoved his brother off of him, causing him to tumble over and land heavily on his back. Rachel gave a small scream and rushed to kneel down beside him, while the rest of the team gathered round to make sure their male lead was ok. No one bothered with the stranger.

The New Directions watched in confusion as the boy ran away down the corridor, an obvious limp in his left leg. Eventually he disappeared around the corner, and they turned their attention back to Finn, who was still lying on the ground like an unturned beetle.

"Where did he go?" Finn broke the silence as he struggled to his feet with the help of Mr Shue.

"Don't worry, he's gone now. Now I've got to go and report this incident to Principal Figgins. The security at this school is a complete joke." Will sighed, making his way down the corridor, as the rest of the students began to make their way back into the choir room and Rachel still brushing down his clothes, muttering angrily about the "little hooligan."

"Didn't you see it?" Finn called after his teacher, shaking off his girlfriend. Will turned back to look at him in confusion.

"See what?"

"That boy!" He gasped, struggling to speak. "Kurt. He…He looked like Kurt."

At the mention of that name, everyone fell silent, gazing at Finn sympathetically. Sighing heavily, Will came forward and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder, like he always did when Finn was upset.

"Finn, you just miss him, that's all." He said assuredly. "You want to find your brother so badly that any homeless boy would have a resemblance to him." But Finn shook his head roughly, sweeping off his hand.

"No, no I know what I saw." He fumed at their disbelieving expressions, turning his back to them to stare down the corridor. He wasn't like he was going insane. Those eyes, that voice, it was uncanny, it was so obviously Kurt. How could they have missed it?

Eventually they all left him, even Rachel, to his thoughts, as he stared desperately in the direction the boy had run, willing him to turn around and come back.

**AN: Thoughts? I'll be uploading the rest as soon as :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Yay for fast, but short, updates. Thats all :D **

Chapter Four

"Are you alright, Finn? You're very quiet this evening." Carole frowned at her son as he picked at his dinner, flicking chips casually around on his plate and eating none of them.

"I'm fine mom." He said in a monotone voice, not bothering to look up from his food. This wasn't exactly encouraging for Carole, who shared a concerned look with her husband, who just shrugged helplessly at his stepson's behaviour.

"Are you feeling ill? Normally you finish your food in five minutes flat." She pushed, ignoring his exaggerated eye roll which reminded her so much of Kurt.

"Hey, don't roll your eyes at your mom!" Burt frowned, standing up to slot his and Carole's already spotless plates into the dishwasher. Finn stayed silent, instead deciding to build a tower with his remaining vegetables. Eventually Burt gave an exasperated sigh and snatched the plate from in front of him, tipping the stone cold meal into the trash.

"Anything interesting happen at school today?" Carole said desperately, as her son stood up to leave.

If she noticed the stricken look on his face, she didn't mention it. Finn stood there for several seconds, weighing up his options in his head.

It was Kurt he saw today in the hallway, he was sure of it. But even he could see he had no proof and no way of convincing his parents he was right. What purpose would telling them achieve? He could already see the outcome. Carole's face dropping at the mention of his name and turning round quickly to begin the washing up, Burt telling him that he must have been mistaken, blinking furiously to disguise the tears building up in his eyes.

He couldn't, in good conscience, bring that pain upon them.

"No", He said quietly. "Nothing at all."

* * *

It seemed like hours before Kurt stopped running, turning down unfamiliar street after unfamiliar street. It was only when his lungs began to burn and the agonising pain in his legs became unbearable that he finally slowed down and collapsed onto a nearby bench, gasping for breath.

What was he thinking, going back there? It was a recipe for disaster and Kurt had known that. But something had pulled him in there, a strong force that he hadn't felt for so long he had nearly forgotten what it felt like. A sense of coming home, of family. His family were so close to him; his best friends, his brother. He hadn't been able to resist, and what had it achieved? That horrible expression of Finns face after Kurt shoved him away told him. He'd opened up a wound, and it was going to take a long time for it to heal over again.

* * *

The next day at school was disastrous. Due to their gossiping about his conversation with Mr Shue, the whole glee club now thought he was losing his mind. By lunchtime, the sympathetic gazes and pats on the shoulders were starting to get patronizing, and so he decided to skip eating with them in the cafeteria, instead settling to eat in the choir room by himself.

His appetite had picked up since yesterday, and he inhaled his burger and chips in a matter of minutes. After placing the tray carefully on the floor next to him, he wracked his brains over what to do. Suddenly, lunch break seemed far too long without the guys to keep him company.

Just when he found himself wishing for someone to talk to, Blaine walked in through the doorway, watching him nervously, as though Finn may attack him for simply looking, like a feral dog.

"It's okay; I'm not going to bite you." Finn scowled.

Despite his reassuring words, the shorter boy became more nervous as he took a seat next to Finn. He sat up straight, turning his body to face his friend.

"Are you feeling okay Finn?" Blaine said calmly, with the condescending tone of a physiatrist. "It's just…everyone's worried about you."

Finn threw his head back in annoyance, standing up out of his chair. "That's just great! Now everyone is talking about me behind my back!" He fumed, directing his anger at a wide eyed Blaine. "What are they saying?"

"T-They're just wondering why you thought that boy yesterday was your brother." He stuttered. the sight of the giant quarterback pacing in front of him was making him nervous.

"I didn't think it was him!" Finn sighed, taking his seat once again. "It was Kurt."

He waited to the typical councillors talk, like Mr Shue had given him the day before, like Rachel had texted him during first period. Instead he got the question he wasn't expecting.

"…How did you know?" Blaine asked him timidly. Finn lifted his head up and looked at the other boy in surprise.

"You believe me?"

Blaine shrugged. "He's your brother, if anyone was going to recognise him it would be you."

A wide smile spread across Finns face, and he relaxed a little into his chair. "I don't know how to explain it, I just knew. And don't give me that look!" He scolded as Blaine began to frown. He decided to try a different approach. "Do you have a brother?"

Blaine nodded, the frown still in place. "Yes, my older brother Cooper."

"Would you think that you would be able to know him from anywhere, no matter what happened to him?"

"Are you kidding? I would hear his ego coming miles away." He laughed, finally giving Finn a nod of satisfaction. "Okay, I believe you." He relented. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"What can I do?" Finn exclaimed. "I have no evidence, no clues as to where he is and no one apart from you believes it was even him."

Blaine shifted slightly in his seat under Finns gaze. Eventually his shoulders slumped and he gave a weak shrug. "You'll just have to wait and see if he comes back again, I guess." It wasn't the best advice, but it was all he had.

* * *

Another awkward family dinner and a sullen Finn ended with him leaving with his plate to finish in his bedroom. Normally this was out of the question, but his parents could sense something was wrong and didn't want to push it.

Six hours later, Finn hadn't moved from his desk. The dirty plate still sat on the floor by his feet, his laptop screen lit up in front of him. The screen was full of newspaper articles, missing people websites, maps of the surrounding areas, anything he could get his hands on. It was an absurd plan, badly thought out and a complete shot in the dark, but his mind was whirling with ideas, places. All he knew was, he couldn't sit patiently and wait, nor could he do this by himself.

His phone was slightly out of reach on his bed. Reaching out an arm, he groped for it wildly in the darkness. Finally he clasped it and turned it on. Ignoring the array of texts from Rachel, he scrolled through his contacts and selected the one he wanted.

It took a few rings, but eventually the ringing stopped and a very disgruntled voice sounded down the phone.

"_Finn, its one o'clock in the morning! I swear, if this isn't a serious emergency-"_

"I'm going to find him." He cut in, his heart thumping at the prospect.

There was a slight rustling which he guessed was Blaine sitting up in bed, and the distinct sound of a lamp being switched on.

"_You're going to what!"_ Blaine's incredulous voice called out, a little louder than before.

"Look, I know it sounds crazy but I have ideas! Places which I think he might be. We should check them out, maybe he'll be there and we can convince him to come back!"

"_Hold on! We?"_

Finn twisted the hem of his shirt round on his finger, remembering fondly how angry Kurt got whenever he did that. "Well I'm gonna need back up. Come on Blaine, dude I'm counting on you."

There was a few seconds of silence as Blaine deliberated. _"…I don't know, Finn-"_

"Please!" He practically whined, his heart thumping. "If we can find him we can make everything better again. Mom and Burt will be so happy; the New Directions will be whole again, you can make amends with him like you said you were so desperate to." He paused. "And I get my brother back."

In the end there was a muffled sigh as Blaine finally gave his answer. "_Ok then."_


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Thanks to everyone who decided to stick with me for this story, and hey to my new readers :) Sorry this took so long... But its kind of long :)**

**Enjoy, and remember that I don't own Glee. I must add that I'm slightly scared for the next episode...**

Chapter Five

"This is ridiculous." Blaine huffed, wrapping his arms around himself tightly and pulling his hoodie closer to his body. His breath danced in front of him in dark grey wisps against the navy background of the sky. Finn was standing next to him, reading a crumpled map by torchlight.

"Look, we're only going to be here for another hour or so, and then we can go home!" Finn said, setting off down the road in a seemingly random direction. Being past midnight, most of the shops had closed their doors hours ago. All that remained open were the nightclubs and the odd takeaway, which were all crammed with noisy, drunk men, whom the boys were keen to avoid.

"That's what you said last time, but instead we ended up following someone you _thought_ was him, but who ended up being a little old woman! Seriously dude, she nearly got us with her pepper spray!"

"Today will be different." Finns confident tone wasn't enough for Blaine, and he didn't reply. They walked together in silence; coming up to the end of the road where the shops came to an end and the houses and back alleys began.

This was the fourth night that Finn had turned up at Blaine's house late evening with an old map and a new plan. He would then wait impatiently until Blaine's parents were asleep, and he was able to sneak out of his window and climb down the tree next to his bedroom, then they would drive off on their wild quest.

Blaine never asked where they were going. There was no connection, at least not one obvious to him. One day it was the Lima mall, the other day they went up all the way up to Columbus. Secretly, he knew that if Kurt didn't want to be found, he could have gone anyway, but he kept quiet for his friend. In the last few weeks, Finn had changed.

He was happier, laughing and cracking jokes to lift everyone's spirits. He was once again the loveable boyfriend for Rachel and the golden boy of the glee club. Their sectionals completion was only a couple of weeks away and he was well on track to being able to take the male lead. Whatever this new obsession was, it was working.

Tonight was no different from the others, and after another hour of asking round drunk adolescents who could barely remember their own name, the boys decided to call it a day.

"Well at least we can cross Westerville off our list." Blaine smiled as they walked back the way they came, passing the previous parade of shops, glad to be getting home to go back to bed.

Finn ignored him, his pace slowing down. In front of him, a man staggered out of a pizza restaurant, chucking the remains of his cardboard box onto the curb and taking another swig of beer. He spotted the two boys and gave them a cheery wave.

Blaine snorted loudly at the sight. "My god that man is completely hammered… w-wait Finn, where are you going!" He exclaimed, as Finn marched up to the man, whipping his photograph out of his pocket.

"Hey man!" He grabbed the guys arm gently and thrust the paper into his hand. "Have you seen my brother round here ever? Doesn't matter when, just …just have you seen him?"

"N-No….The man wobbled on his feet as he took another drink, offering the bottle to Finn and Blaine, who had come to stand by his friend, looking more than a little disapproving. "Want some?"

"Umm, no thanks." Finn frowned. "Are you sure?" He said desperately, "He's got brown hair, bluey-greeny eyes, really skinny-"

"Finn he said no now let's go-" Blaine tried to tug him away.

"Wait a second!" The man exclaimed, stopping the boys in their tracks. "I do know him!"

"You do?" They cried in unison, their hearts beginning to beat widely in anticipation. The man looked at them in confusion, nodding slowly.

"Yeah, he's one of Cole's boys."

The two teenagers exchanged a worried glance. "Who's that?" Blaine bit his lip, slightly afraid of the answer as Finn stared at the stranger, open mouthed.

"A nasty piece of work round these parts. A lot muscle and a lot of power. " His expression turned grave as he stared at the boys. "Trust me; you don't want to get on his bad side."

Finn's mind flashed back to that day at McKinley, that brutish man throwing his little brother against the wall. His stomach gave a nasty churn at the thought. One look at Blaine told him he had had the same vision.

"Where can we find him?" He asked the man, who had now abandoned his beer to light up a roll up which looked suspiciously unlike tobacco.

"He's usually around here over the weekend, that's when he does his trading. But I warn you." The man looked at them, with eyes far too solemn for someone so drunk. "Nice boys like you; I would seriously advice you to stay away from that man."

Finn stared back at him, his face a mask of determination. "I think we can handle it."

* * *

That night, Finn barely slept a wink, about of both fear and excitement. The man's words spun round in his head until they turned to nothing but a blur of letters. He couldn't remember exactly what the drunken man had said, but they were getting somewhere, and it was better than nothing.

* * *

"You can't be serious!"

"Why not? It worked before." Finn retaliated, glaring at his friend as he paced up and down the choir room the next day during free period.

"But before we didn't know what we were looking for-"

"Now we have a lead! We can't just abandon our quest and call for backup." Finn butted in, staring at Blaine with hopeful eyes.

"It's good enough for the police, why not for us?" Blaine deadpanned. "Besides, I can't keep sneaking out! My dad caught me coming back in through the window last night and is now convinced I've got a secret boyfriend. He's this close to grounding me! Stop laughing!" He whined as Finn tried to stifle a laugh.

"Sorry dude, but it is kind of funny." He laughed as Blaine sat down next to him in a huff. "You know, once we find Kurt you could totally ask him out!" His laughter began to die out when Blaine didn't join in.

"Oh…well…" The former warbler stuttered, his face turning pink with embarrassment.

"Wait a second…" Finn held up a hand to stop him. "You're not saying you actually…like Kurt. As in like like."

"Why not?" He replied indignantly, "When we met last year, there was…something there between us. Besides, who wouldn't find him attractive? He's charmingly, talented and not to mention gorgeous-"

"Really, Kurt?"

Blaine jaw dropped in mock horror, throwing a hand over his heart. "Don't sound so surprised!"

"No it's not that!" Finn stuttered, "It's just weird to hear."

They lapsed into an awkward silence, Finn still mulling over the idea that Blaine had a thing for his brother. After a while, Blaine's head flipped up. His eyes lit up in excitement as he stared at Finn, who looked back at him quizzically.

"I've got an idea!" Blaine exclaimed happily, to Finns surprise. It took him a while to explain the whole idea, and after many heated words they finally fabricated the perfect lie.

"Finn…" said the younger boy as they walked out of the choir room to their next lesson, trying to think of a way to break this to him gently. "…I don't think we can do all this by ourselves anymore. To pull all this off, we're gonna need some serious help."

Finn nodded thoughtfully. "You're right." He said eventually, "and I know just who we need."

* * *

"A field trip?"

Finn nodded, staring down at his parents from where they sat at the dinner table. Burt frowned, setting down his knife and fork to stare at his stepson. Finn withered a little under his gaze but managed to say collected.

"Why haven't we heard of this before?" The man asked.

"Oh, I forgot to give you the letter. Come on Burt I really have to go, I'm the male lead!" Finn pleaded, clasping his hands together and holding them under his chin in a pleading expression. It was a cheap trick, but Finn was desperate.

Burt paled at the action which reminded him so much of his son. "Fine." He grumbled, looking down at his plate and returning to eating.

"So Finn, was exactly is this field trip?" Carole asked lightly, trying to diffuse the tension which had built around the three of them.

Finn replied, grateful for a distraction. "Well, there's this fancy boarding school up in Westerville, Dalton Academy. Their show choir, the Warblers, are like, this awesome acapella choir; we're facing them at sectionals. So they invited us down to stay at their school for a week to… size up the completion."

His parents nodding along thoughtfully until he finished talking, a little out of breath. "Well don't let those fancy private school kids faze you." Burt said sternly, "Show them what you're made of."

Finn nodded his face a mask of sincerity. "I will sir." He grinned, giving his stepfather a quick salute before leaving the room. He couldn't resist giving a little fist pump at a job well done.

Once back up in his room, he whipped out his phone and fired of a quick text to his second in command.

_To: Blaine Anderson_

_The plan is in action. Commence phase two. Finn_

* * *

"So how comes after everything that's happened between us, and all those times of me trying to make it up to you, you want to sort it out now?" Puck glared at his former best friend, who had taken the empty seat in front of him in the lunch hall, after months of nothing but angry looks being passed between them.

"Look, I don't forgive you for what you did with Quinn, or Rachel." He sighed, running his hand roughly over his head. "But right now, I need some help and honestly, you're the best I've got."

"Aww is this the moment we hug and braid each other's hair." Puck snorted, but there was a tiny glint in his eye that told Finn he was teasing. Finn rolled his eyes and held out his hand for a fist bump, which Puck quickly returned.

"So what is it you need the help of Puckasaurus." Puck flexed his arms playfully, "Is it with chicks, because that's the only thing I can think of that I'm the best at."

"No…"Suddenly Finn felt nervous and stupid again, like he had when he first starting talk about this with Blaine. "Look this is serious, alright!"

Puck, noticing the intent look in his friends eyes, nodded solemnly, all joking set aside. "So what is it?"

The quarterback took a deep breath; "Okay so remember when we saw Kurt in the hallway outside glee-" He cut of as Puck threw up his hands in frustration.

"Dude! We've talked about this." Puck exclaimed, lowing his voice so it was nothing but a hiss. "That was just some random kid and obsessing over this is fucking insanity!" He picked up his sandwich and began to take huge bites to quell his anger.

"We've found him. "Finn deadpanned, causing his friends mouth to fall open in shock. He tried not to cringe as the remains of his sandwich dropped out of his mouth onto his awaiting plate.

"Wait…What?" He cried, staring back at Finn in horror.

Finn backtracked, for fear that Pucks eyes were about to fall out of his head and join his sandwich. "Well not found him exactly, but we know vaguely were he is."

After a minute of recovering, Puck took a deep breath. "Ok, first of all, who is we?"

"Me and Blaine." Finn admitted. "He was the only one willing to believe me. We've been spending a few nights scouting the surrounding area looking for clues."

"Clues." Puck repeated, shaking his head in display. "This isn't Scooby doo, Finn!"

"I know, it was stupid and reckless, that's what Blaine kept saying. But look-" Finn lent in a little closer so that only Puck could hear him. "There's this guy, Cole. Kurt knows him somehow. We know where his area his, we just need to go find him and ask where Kurt is."

"So why do you need me?" Puck asked, still a little bewildered.

"This guy is a thug." A voice rang out from behind the pair, making the two to them jump out of their skins. Together, they spun round to see Blaine standing over them, looking completely innocent. He climbed over the bench and took the seat next to Puck.

"We've been warned that he's dangerous, so…" Blaine trailed off, hoping the mohawked boy would get the message.

Luckily Puck seemed to understand. "So I'm the muscle."

"Exactly." Blaine grinned, relaxing into his chair and nodding to Finn in satisfaction. At first he wasn't overly keen about inviting Puck along, especially after what he'd heard from Finn about Kurt's former bully. But he had grown fond of him, and he could definitely see the benefits of having the reformed bad boy on their side.

"I can deal with that." Puck laughed, and the three of them proceeded to discuss their plan which was slowly starting to take shape.

* * *

_Meanwhile…_

He hated this area. It was bleak, depressing and worst of all, _really cold._

The boy shivered violently and wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to keep warm. His only fleece was gone, now probably slung over the shoulder of the man whom he sold it to. He was so drunk he probably didn't realise what he was doing as he handed over the crumbled note and Kurt threw the garment his way, running in the opposite direction before he could change his mind.

That twenty dollars now was tucked the hand of the man before him, along with a few dollars he'd been able to make begging in front of the community centre. The man roughly flicked through the notes, his grimy fingers nearly tearing the thin paper as he counted them out. Once he was satisfied it was all there, he shoved them carelessly into his pocket.

"Took you long enough." Cole spat, his eyes still boring into him. Kurt flinched at the closeness between them; he could smell that awful stale smell that he associated with his _friend_.

"Sorry." He mumbled, feeling like a schoolboy being told of for forgetting his homework. The older man simply shrugged at him.

"Just don't let it happen next time." Kurt's head shot up. Cole had lifted his own rucksack onto the ground and was rummaging around inside, swearing viciously when he couldn't find what he wanted.

Finally, he pulled out a small bag, the sight at which made Kurts heart give a tiny leap. He could feel the anticipation bubbling in his stomach and it made him sick.

"So, how about it?" Cole grinned at him evilly, knowing full well what he was doing, what he was causing within Kurt's mind. He dangled the bag in front of him teasingly.

Kurt froze. This was it, the moment he'd been dreading. He cleared his throat gingerly and spoke the words he spent three weeks building the courage to say. "No."

Coles grin fell swiftly from his face. "What?" He said calmly, but his eyes were widening in fury.

Kurt said nothing. It had been bothering him for weeks, ever since he'd seen his friends, his old school, his old teacher. He'd caught a glimpse of what his life used to be like, and it made him remember, everything that he used to love; fashion, performing, singing in glee with his brother and his friends who loved and accepted his eccentricities. He suspected that if he told his current acquaintances about his love of Broadway or fashionable hats, they'd be worse than any football jock.

He'd changed when he let Lima, and he wanted to be that person again. This was the first step.

"I don't want it, Cole." He said determinedly, bravely shoving his hand containing the bag away. The man looked furious, but he stayed silent, settling for a simple "fine."

But instead of putting the substance away, a wicked smile appeared on his face. Reaching down, he pulled out a small handful of similar bags and quickly stuffed them into Kurt's folded arms.

"I said no, Cole!" Kurt exclaimed, leaping backwards to avoid the man's hands.

"Look, you becoming all self-righteous all of a sudden is losing me a customer and a great deal of money. So you're gonna have to make it up to me, understand?"

At last, Kurt got what he meant. Gasping, he looked down at the offending substance in his arms. "Cole, I-I can't do this!" He hissed, "What if I get caught?"

"Well there's always plan A." The man laughed, swinging the first bag teasingly in front of him.

Kurt's breath hitched with want, the idea of giving up crossing his mind for a second, but he quickly shook it out.

"Fine." He growled, stalking off into the distance and stowing the bags away in his rucksack as he disappeared into the darkness, where the streetlamps were broken and the roads were silent. His heart was beating furiously against his chest.

That didn't go to plan at all.


End file.
